Mary Anne Saves the Day (deleted, behind-the-scenes, scene)
by mcpon14
Summary: This is a story about how Dawn became the narrator of the fifth book in the series. Dawn's motive in the story is to spin-off of the BSC series in order to launch her own.


* The following takes place after Dawn and Mary Anne go to Dawn's house for the first time and after they go up to Dawn's room. The story picks up from after Dawn turns on a lot of lamps in her room, specifically right after she says, "I just hope the wiring in this place can take it" and ends directly before Mary Anne says,"Hey. There's the VCR." (Mary Anne Saves the Day, p. 43) *

(Narrator: Mary Anne)

I was squinting hard. Almost painfully. A wrenching squinting. Why was it so bright? I wanted to say something but couldn't think up of anything that couldn't be seen as rude.

Then I felt the swift movement of a person rush by me.

Click. It sounded like the locking of a door behind me.

"Dawn!" I commanded hoping to sound forceful. "Did you just lock the door?"

I had spun around and faced what I thought was her. I looked her up and down. I could barely make out the outline of her above the waist but I could see the bottom section of her better: the two legs and shoes.

When I didn't receive an answer, I screamed but it was cut off as a hand clasped itself to the back of my head and another cupped itself over my mouth.

Panicking, I was about to kick her between those two legs - something that I thought that I would never have the courage to do to another human being - when she spoke.

"Relax," her unmistakable voice said. "Relax. I'll turn down the lights sheesh. What's wrong with you?"

I felt the wind of a bypassing person followed by the promised dimming of the lights.

Now I could see her clearly.

"Mary Anne," she began.

"You almost gave me a heart-attack," I glared in a mousey way.

"I'm so sorry about that. I'm really sorry."

She looked apologetic. I softened. She smiled, still apologetic-looking.

"Listen. I know about your friends," she said pointedly, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah? They WERE absent today. But," I said then looked down. "Okay, Dawn. I haven't been truthful. They were not absent. I wasn't sitting with them these two days because . . . we've been fighting."

She looked sympathetic.

"Thanks for telling me,"she paused then began again but eagerly this time. "I know all about them. I know that you guys are in a club. The Babysitter's Club."

"How did you . . ." I began, searching her face.

"And I want in," she finished brightly with an undertone of determination.

"But . . . " I started to say and walked to the nearest corner of the room. "Why did you lock the door? Did you want in that bad?"

"Look," she stated as she walked over to the door. "I just had to make sure that I got in that's all."

"Well . . . we broke up. It's no more. Too many other activities got in the way," I said then looked at the door, her proximity to it, and winced. "So . . . why don't you start your own? A new one."

She lowered her eyes at me like a bull ready to charge. "I KNOW it's not broken up," she informed in a no-nonsense way. "I just want in that's all. Sorry if my approach was abrasive." She lightened up as she said the last sentence.

"Um . . . " I drifted my eyes away from her thinking that I was in a room with a nutty person settling it on the small circular window near her ceiling. "Actually your wrong. We ARE broken up. Anyways. How long have you been babysitting? What's your experience with kids?"

"I've been babysitting since I was nine. I used to sit all of the time in my old neighborhood. There were lots of kids."

"Well . . . start your own club. Ours is out of business."

She was looking intently at the side of my face. I could feel her reaching towards her pocket.

I looked over full-faced at her in alarm.

"Relax," she said as she reached in and pulled out a folded piece of paper, unfolded it then read aloud using a rap voice. "Yo, yo, yo. I'm the oh-gee. Everybody knows me. I break people to their knees. I'm a killa. The ultimate thrilla. If you see my ride. Holla."

I was stunned.

"He-ey," I stammered. "Where'd you get that?"

"Wait there's more," she threatened.

"No wait. Stop. Alright. Alright," I ceded. "Give me that."

"I just copied this. Your, um, NOTEbook is somewhere else," she apprised me.

"Oh," I uttered, embarrassed.

I perked up. "You can't prove it!"

"I have videos and good audio of you in the bath. You're quiet with it but it's still loud enough and clear," she deadpanned.

I gazed at her appraising her seriousness and aptitude.

"I'll scream," I threw out there. "You'll get in trouble with your mom."

"Somehow. I doubt that my "mom" will help you," she retorted with the same deadpan expression.

As I floundered for something else to say, she continued.

"You see. I know what it means to be in the Babysitter's Club," she said, more as a sililoquoy, then dead-setted her eyes right at me. "I know what it [i]means[/i].

My mouth gaped slightly open at this juncture with understanding.

"I'm not meant for the background. I'm not meant to be ancillary."

"You're nuts," I managed to say.

"Oh? I'm a paranormal phenomenon explorer. I've been throughout the U.S.. On mostly fruitless excursions. But this one panned out. I've been to Kristy's house. Found her box. Opened it up. Been through the wormhole. And back. I don't need to tell you what I saw, do I? Basically . . . I know why you guys started the Club," she recounted then added the last part. "And I want in."

I peered at her trying to gauge what I, or we - the rest of the Club members - should do about this.

But then she resumed. "It's your job to convince the rest of the other Club members. I know you'll be able to do it."

"And oh," she added in an offhanded tone. "Your dad is already on board. My "mom" and him are going to be former high school sweethearts. We could do something with that. Everything needed for that has already been planted and planned."

She finished with, "We have something on him, needless to say. Think about that."

I didn't know what to say or think. I just thought I'd go along with it until maybe I could figure out what to do.

"Okay," I nodded. "Just don't, um, uh, hurt my dad."

"Okay. Good," she directed. "We're going to continue on with this charade. Until - who knows - it won't be a charade anymore. Until we really become friends."

After saying the last part, she threw on a wry, sheepish smile. I eyed her subtly not knowing what to make of it.

"Okay. Cool. Now we're going to continue as if none of this ever happened. I have a TV and a VCR in my room. You just noticed it," she instructed as she unlocked her door.


End file.
